


Yo, Derek?

by lawlietismine



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 1x09, But he knows, Episode: s01e09 Wolf's Bane, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Love/Hate, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Short One Shot, What-If, if you know what i mean, not about werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:46:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawlietismine/pseuds/lawlietismine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles rushes home, he lets his bag on his room's floor and he sits at his messed desk, in front of his computer, without even taking his jacket off. [...] when he meets Derek's eyes instead of the Sheriff's, he jolts and he stares shocked at him for a little while, holding on his swivel chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yo, Derek?

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again. It's been a while since the last time I posted in english.  
> Well, I hope u'll enjoy this short fic. I needed to write something like this!  
> 

  


  
  


  
Stiles rushes home, he lets his bag on his room's floor and he sits at his messed desk, in front of his computer, without even taking his jacket off.  
He looks frenetically for some usefull information, without loosing any precious time.  
“Hey, Stiles!” his father's call arrives a moment later, while he hears him coming upstairs, so he types some last words and then he turns to answer.  
“Yo! Da– _Derek?_ ” when he meets Derek's eyes instead of the Sheriff's, he jolts and he stares shocked at him for a little while, holding on his swivel chair.  
The other one glares with no mercy, pointing repeatedly at the door with his forefinger in front of his mouth to imply that he has to be silent, so Stiles stands up and does as Derek says silently, reaching his father so that he doesn't discover that Derek Hale is in his bedroom.  
“What did you say?” asks John a little confused, while Stiles swings nervously on the door, holding himself to the door frame and trying to cover the visual over his shoulders.  
“What? I said _Yo, dad!_ ” he answers with an obvious expression that is not convincing at all, as he is almost laughing hysterically: his father seems to believe him, or he pretends to, and lets the matter drop.  
“Listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but I'm gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game” he warns him.  
“My first game. Mh, it's great. Awesome. Uh– _Good_.” and then it's very quiet, they stares at each other in a strange way –Stiles is almost sure that John is trying to look over his shoulders, as if to understand what the hell he is hiding, or as if he knows that his son is not alone.  
Then his father shakes his head a little, he smiles sincerely and “I'm very happy for you. And I'm very proud of you” he says with a small pause, letting him with no words, because it's not so clear to what he is referring to, his game or the possibility that there might be someone behind that door.  
“Thanks. Me too. I'm happy and proud... Of myself” he mumbles, swallowing.  
After another exchange of words full of evident and absurd awkwardness, another “I'm proud if you” and a weird hug – which makes Stiles understand deep inside that yes, his father knows absolutely that he is not alone – at the end he goes away and Stiles comes back in his room, closing the door behind him.  
Door against which Derek slams him a second later, holding him tight on his jacket and pointing a finger to his nose, a miserable distance dividing them.  
“If you say one word–” he growls between his teeth and his eyes move repeatedly from the boy's amber irises to his parted lips.  
“Oh, what, you mean, like, _hey, dad, Derek Hale's in my room, bring your gun?_ ” he blurts sarcastically, noticing in a particular way the continuous movement of his green, beautiful eyes on his face, and “Yeah, that's right. If I'm harboring your fugitive ass, it's my house, my rules, buddy!” he adds, before giving him a risky slap on his chest.  
Derek looks down to follow his gesture, then he looks back at his eyes.  
They stare at each other intensely, too much seriousness and tension in the air. Then an angle of Stiles' mouth folds upward inevitably, a sly smirk on his face, and they are kissing a moment later as if it's the only right thing to do, because when they're together, _it's inevitable_.  


End file.
